


Asphyxi-Fate 2: Tea in Your Sugar

by victorchewitsshouldntdothis



Series: Asphyxi-Fate [2]
Category: Deadly Premonition | Red Seeds Profile
Genre: Crossdressing, Established Relationship, F/M, M/M, Original Character(s), That Feel When You're Not Sure You're Deserving of Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 02:45:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11591304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/victorchewitsshouldntdothis/pseuds/victorchewitsshouldntdothis
Summary: Michael Tillotson has spent his entire adult life trying to earn the affection of the most withholding man on Earth, so he is certain that his new boyfriend's emotional walls are no match for his earnest attempts to scale them. Unfortunately for him, he has underestimated just how desperate Victor Chewits is not to be loved. But at least he has a shoulder to cry on this time around.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This is part two. Just in case you jumped in here.

Michael had spent two weeks trying to warm Victor up to the idea of them calling each other boyfriends. In his head, he already had been, but he needed Victor to agree. The rest of his life was beginning to rotate slowly back to base. The FBI presence in Greenvale, that he had dismissed out of hand as screwing up the murder investigation, had come through. Apparently, it had seemed suspicious that the sheriff had been so ready to blame the murder on a random missing person who could just as easily have been another victim. The agent had managed to arrest the sheriff without any further loss of life. The case was neatly wrapped up. When he had heard the news that he was no longer a suspect, Michael had placed a phone call to his father and snottily informed him that he was alive. As the first vague apologies began to come through, Michael had said that he was staying with his new partner, and that he would not be coming home in the foreseeable future. He had not asked Victor if that was all right first.

After that, Michael had spent all his time focusing on Victor. Proving that they were right for each other was his new project, and he had every intention that it would be a triumph. Unlike most of his past projects. They had spent a lot of evenings talking together, while Michael tried to gently pry more information out of Victor about his life. At night, they slept in the same bed, and Michael often lay awake for a while enjoying it before he finally fell asleep. Overall, it had been going perfectly. Victor had seemingly made a real effort to treat him the way he wanted to be treated. He had been gentle, and even laid off on the teasing. Most of the time. Michael suspected that Victor would admit he loved him soon. He had dedicated a lot of thought to it. Because of Victor’s initial cool reaction to the idea of them dating, Michael wanted him to say the ‘I love you’ first. But as soon as he did, Michael would say it back. He couldn’t wait. He knew it would happen any day now.

Two weeks and one day after they had first slept together, Michael was reading a book on the sofa. He was stretched out with his feet over the arm. It was beginning to get late into the evening, but he was engrossed, and had not noticed the time. When the front door opened, he jolted up in surprise. He looked nervously over the back of the sofa, and saw Victor in the open doorway, waving vaguely behind him as he stumbled forward. Michael narrowed his eyes, and climbed to his feet. He stood in front of Victor a moment later, and Victor seemed to notice him a couple of seconds after he appeared.

“God!” he shouted. “Yuh like a fuhkin’ spidah.”

“Are you drunk?” Michael asked levelly. He did not need to. It was obvious.

“Wheel know that already…” Victor slurred back at him. “Whatah you doing… here.”

“I live here,” Michael answered. “Please tell me you did not drive home.”

“I forgot that,” Victor said sloppily, moving towards the sofa and clutching the back of it for balance. “Oh… ahn naw. Got a ride.” He giggled to himself. Michael took him by the arm and walked him around, sitting him down in a messy heap.

“From who?” he asked. He was beginning to feel panicky about what was happening. Victor had not mentioned that he was going out drinking, or that he was meeting friends.

“Yuh not my wife,” Victor muttered. Michael clenched his fists. He stood directly in front of Victor, tilting the man’s chin up to meet his eyes.

“Tell me who drove you home,” Michael said icily. “Please.”

“Carol drove me home,” Victor admitted weakly, trying to pull away. “She did me a favah, no big deal, is it?”

“I thought she did not like you. That’s an odd thing for her to do,” Michael said robotically. Already, in his head, alarm bells were ringing. “What happened, Victor?”

“I’m tiahed, can we just…? Sleep. For tonight.” Victor attempted to shift himself down onto his side, but Michael righted him with a sharp jerk. Victor did not especially want to look at him, and as a pessimist, Michael had plenty of possible reasons to explain it.

“Tell me what happened,” Michael insisted. Victor glared at him.

“You fucking asked,” he muttered, apparently sobering slightly at Michael’s tone. He hunched his shoulders and looked down at the floor, then took a breath. “We got to talking. I was at her bar. It’s been a hard time for her lately, you know. With everything.” Michael did not answer. He stared rigidly at Victor and waited for the rest. “We just… happened to be a good person for the other to talk to. About all the shit.”

“About what?” Michael spat, unable to stop himself. “What did _you_ have to talk to her about? What could you possibly need from her?”

“Maybe just a fucking ten-minute break, okay?!” Victor snapped back. “Like things have been a party lately! I thought you were meant to be the one leaning on _my_ hospitality, so why do I feel like fucking Paul Sheldon in my own house lately?” Michael didn’t answer. His bad feeling had very quickly turned into rocks in his stomach. Victor realised he wasn’t going to rise to the bait, and retreated reflexively. He went on, speaking more quietly. “Look. You don’t want to hear about it, so let’s just go to bed.”

“I want to hear about it,” Michael said softly, keeping his voice steady.

“Fine,” Victor sighed. “We talked for a while. We ended up drinking a lot together. I guess we had some things the other one wanted to hear. Just… stuff. Shitty stuff, that it sometimes feels good to share out loud.” His eyes flicked up to Michael’s face and then back to the floor. “Well, it went on like that for a while. It got sort of late. And… you know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter!” Michael insisted. “It matters to me, so tell me.” He paused, composing himself at great effort. “As if I don’t already know… I’m not stupid. I can guess.”

“Great, then guess,” Victor muttered. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Tell me the truth,” Michael pushed. “Tell me _everything_. Now, Victor.” Victor made himself meet his eyes now, and Michael felt colder than before, ice all the way through. Yes, it was pretty obvious what had happened. He really did not know why he hadn’t expected it before tonight.

“It just sort of happened,” Victor mumbled unhappily. “In her dressing room… I was drunk, I wasn’t thinking. I guess I kind of… forgot. For a while. That I wasn’t meant to do it.” He stuck a hand up to the side of his head and ruffled his own hair furiously, distractedly. “I shouldn’t have done it,” he added, weakly. “But I did. It happened. And I knew when it happened that you’d find out, so I just kept drinking for a while and pretending that I wasn’t gonna have to come home at the end of it. And now, here I am. And you know. And… I’m sorry.” He looked meekly up at Michael.

“So…” Michael said stiffly, trying to resist the urge to cry or cause a fuss. He wanted to be unemotional. He didn’t want Victor to try and comfort him. “You had sex with someone else. But you’re sorry.”

“Michael, look!” Victor cried out, stumbling to his feet and reaching out to grab Michael by the arms. Michael went limp and let himself be held, as if he did not care enough to resist. “Shit, listen to me, okay? I told you I sucked at this. I’ve never been able to pull it off before, ever. I’ve barely even tried, and I always fuck something up. People just know, okay? They smell it on me or whatever, that I’m not worth sticking around for, and I guess you don’t, but Michael… they aren’t wrong. I’m not worth anyone’s time, not more than an hour of it. The fact that you think I am is great, it is, but… christ, Michael, it’s so much _pressure_! I just feel… I feel like someone’s waiting to drop the axe on my neck. So, I… I… I guess I did it myself. I fucked things up so no-one else could.”

“Victor, that is not an excuse,” Michael said, voice hollow. He could barely believe it. Yet, of course he could. This is exactly how things always happened to him. He was allowed a brief moment of happiness before it came crashing down again. This time, the turnaround had just been quite quick.

“It’s just a reason!” Victor protested. “But it’s been so hard on me, the past couple of weeks, do you get that?” Michael did not. His picture of the past two weeks had been completely different. He had finally found someone who cared about him, who liked him, without asking anything in particular in return. Someone who offered him a moment of safety. He wanted to fall in love with that person. He wanted to be happy. Now, he had to hear that his simple attempt to secure the first thing to make him feel truly happy in years, had in fact been eating it out from under him all along. Affection termites. He suddenly lost the urge to keep himself together.

“Get away from me!” Michael shouted, shoving Victor in the chest, and watching him stumble backwards and back down onto the sofa. “How could you? You betrayed me! You…! You don’t deserve to be loved!”

“Shit, Michael, wait –” Victor tried to begin, but Michael turned around, stomping off in the direction of the bedroom.

“Leave me alone!” he cried out over his shoulder as he went. “Sleep through here and just _leave me alone_ , Victor.”


	2. Two

The next morning, Michael woke from a brief and unpleasant sleep. He had not got much sleep throughout the night, falling into short bursts of it and then waking again to remember what had happened. Punctuated by moments of crying quietly into the pillow. Victor had not bothered him. Whether Michael’s reaction to his confession had stopped him, or whether he just didn’t feel like putting in the effort, Victor had not made an appearance all night. Michael was just getting up, when there was a knock at the door. He froze.

“Don’t you dare come in,” he called out. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Hope you have a shitload of food hidden away in there, then,” Victor said through the door. “But fine. I just meant to tell you something. I forgot to mention it, or… well I wasn’t sure it was gonna happen, but I guess it is. I’m gonna have someone staying here for a few days. They’re getting in later today, so I have to get my truck and go pick them up.”

“ _Someone_ ,” Michael muttered cynically. “Well, don’t let me get in the way of your plans. I’m sure now that you have finished with me, you are going to be quite busy.”

“Michael, don’t… it’s not like that,” Victor sighed. “I didn’t… look, we have to talk about this later, anyway. I need to walk all the way over to the Galaxy of Terror to get my truck. Believe me, I feel punished already.”

“Believe me, you deserve it,” Michael hissed back. He hoped the walk was a painful experience. Victor sighed again and said goodbye. Moments later, Michael heard the front door open and shut. He sat back on the bed, letting Victor’s words sink in. It was unlikely that this guest was actually someone Victor was involved with, he had to admit that. Though, if it was an ex… he could believe that was possible. Especially if their visit had been arranged before he had shown up in Victor’s life. His shoulders sunk and he frowned weakly to himself. It was time to admit that things had not worked out the way he wanted them to. He had lost again. Michael moved across the room to get himself dressed. If someone was coming over, he would not greet them in his pyjamas.

Later that afternoon, Michael sat on the sofa, flicking through a book of poetry that he had found in Victor’s collection the previous week. Apparently, according to Victor, he had forgotten to throw it out after graduation. Michael had not believed him then, and he didn’t now. Looking at the pencil notes scribbled inside the cover and on the occasional page made him hurt. All the reminders of what had happened did, and seeing as thinking of Victor made him remember what he had done immediately, and considering he was in Victor’s house, it had not been a pleasant day. He sighed quietly to himself. Soon, he would probably have to begin thinking about moving back home. But he wasn’t ready to do that just yet.

He heard voices outside and realised that Victor was back with his unknown friend. Michael got up and walked around to wait by the door. He wanted to see exactly who this person was. If Victor planned to move someone in right after him, before he was even gone in fact, he would not like to make it a simple task. The door opened. Victor stepped inside and jumped when he almost ran into Michael.

“Thank you, I wanted a heart attack,” he scoffed. “Really eager to try out some of that Yankee healthcare I’ve heard so much about.” Michael frowned, unamused.

“You’ve lived here for years, Victor,” he said dryly. “I’m sure you’ve been sick before. Not that you ever seemed to want to tell me how long you’ve lived here. Or anything else personal…”

“I’m not sick, but I’m not well,” Victor said quickly, walking past Michael into the house, carting a bag behind him. “Anyway, I’ll introduce you. I think she’s at the truck still.” He turned back toward the door, and Michael bristled at his unwelcome closeness.

“She?” Michael muttered. He supposed gender was irrelevant, but after Carol, it left a bad taste in his mouth. He turned to face outside and see if he could catch a glimpse of the intruder. He could hear them by Victor’s truck, moving another bag or something similar. They weren’t in view yet. He waited impatiently to see them. How would he be able to tell if this woman was one of Victor’s exes? Or an ongoing fling, which would be worse. There would be some sign when they talked to each other, he supposed. It would be hard to tell on sight. But he was certainly going to try.

After some time fussing with her things, Michael heard her slam the truck door shut, followed by the sound of grass underfoot. He readied himself. He was going to look her coldly in the eye and make it very clear who he was. But, when she came into view, Michael stopped. His brain must have been failing to process it right, he thought. The woman walking up to the house was dressed in a red dress that resembled a long shirt. She had a pair of battered boots on her feet, and tights which might as well have been gnawed on for all the holes that speckled them. She had blonde hair that went just past her shoulders. And she looked impossibly similar to Victor.

“This is my sister,” Victor said, tapping him lightly on the back, having noticed that he had frozen up.

“Excuse me?” Michael asked numbly.

“Hi!” Now she was right in front of him, grinning to herself in the same sideways-slanting way that Victor did. She held out a hand for Michael to shake. “I’m Anna,” she added.

“My name is Michael,” Michael said, shaking her hand without really realising what he was doing.

“Victor didn’t say he had anyone over,” Anna said, glancing at her brother. “Shall we sit down? I’m tired as fuck. Flying. It takes it out of you.”

“Try walking a mile to pick up your fucking truck!” Victor scoffed. The two of them had already abandoned their bags and were on their way to the sofa. Michael had not moved. He was in a state of shock. He had been so ready to get angry and defensive, he had not considered that this might be a possibility. The fact that Victor had never mentioned a sister did not help. Bringing himself back to earth, he shut the front door and went to join them, placing himself awkwardly on the arm of the sofa nearest to Victor.

“If I know you, it’s your own fault,” Anna laughed meanly. “Were you drunk?”

“Anna, no offence, but you haven’t seen me in years, and people change,” Victor said, pretending to be wounded by her entirely accurate comment.

“I surely haven’t,” Anna agreed. “But that’s not my fault. You’re the black sheep.”

“And proud of it,” Victor added quickly. He glanced back at Michael, realising he had excluded him from the conversation after the very stilted introduction. “Michael, Anna’s my twin,” he said. “She and I don’t see each other much, after I left home.”

“Left home! How euphemistic,” Anna laughed. Victor subtly shook his head at her, frowning, probably hoping that Michael would not catch it. But he did.

“He doesn’t talk about it,” Michael added quietly. Anna glanced at him curiously. Michael wasn’t sure why he had defended Victor’s privacy. He certainly wanted to know more about his life, but, he supposed, not like this. He had wanted Victor to tell him things on his own.

“Does he not?” Anna asked, not intending it as a real question. “I’m sorry, I missed it… who are you exactly?” Michael did not know how to answer, but Victor swept in before he could.

“He’s a friend,” he said sharply. “He got kicked out and I told him he could stay here for a bit.” Anna smirked to herself.

“All right,” she said. “What was your name again?”

“Michael. What Victor said… is right.” He didn’t want to dispute it. On one level, Michael was stung by the fact that Victor had not introduced them as dating. On another, he was glad. It would lead to more questions, and he had no energy to answer them. Victor had probably not wanted to jump to conclusions, after everything. Telling his twin sister about them might be considered a bad idea, under the circumstances.

“We were gonna grab dinner,” Anna said suddenly, slapping her hands together. “Did you want to come?” Victor turned to look at Michael, expression neutral, to see what he would say. Michael considered it. If Anna hadn’t shown up, he wouldn’t want to have dinner with Victor tonight. With her here, the idea seemed even worse. The added stress of watching the two of them talk about things he wasn’t really meant to know, dancing around their history for his sake, did not enthral him.

“I won’t, thank you,” he declined. “I don’t feel well.”

“It hasn’t been raining…” Victor muttered. Michael shook his head.

“Then we’ll see you later,” Anna said. “Come on, Victor. I’m hungry. Don’t drag your fucking feet.” Michael watched the two of them go. Victor looked back at him as he left, a muddled expression on his face, and Michael had to look away. The last thing he wanted right now was to feel bad for him. Victor had let him down. Michael was not going to be forgiving, no matter how he felt watching Victor leave.


	3. Three

After some hours alone, Michael had retreated into the bedroom, where he now sat at the small desk in the corner. He drummed his fingers against the desktop, wishing he had his diary with him. He had written in it loyally every day, for years. Until the incident that had brought him here. Now, he missed it a lot. The habit of writing down his thoughts was comforting. It helped him square things away in his mind. He was at a loss. It was impossible to decide what he wanted, if he was going to leave and never look back, or try and forgive this… eventually. He didn’t want to forgive Victor. But he didn’t want to go running home with his tail between his legs, either. Even the thought that everything was already over made him upset. It seemed as if he wanted nothing. He wanted to go back and stop Victor from cheating in the first place, and that was the only thing he wanted.

“Hello.” Michael let out a little cry at the sudden voice. He spun around in the chair. Anna was standing in the doorway. Just Anna.

“The two of you are home,” he said, automatically standing up.

“Naw,” Anna said. “Victor got caught up in something while we were out. He won’t be back for a while. Looked like a real mess.” She went and planted herself on the edge of the bed, bending forward to unlace her boots.

“In what, sorry?” Michael asked. Anna shrugged, kicking the first boot onto the floor.

“Some girl?” she answered vaguely. “Girls, technically. There was a fight.” Michael stopped dead. It seemed the previous night was not going to be the end of his troubles after all. “Carol might have been the name,” Anna added.

“Of course…” Michael spat poisonously under his breath. Anna looked up at him.

“Oh, you know her?” she asked. Michael began to wave it off, unwilling to have this conversation, but Anna talked over him. “I figured she might be his girlfriend. Anyway, it wasn’t really his fault. He just jumped in to help her out. There were two of them getting into something, and he stepped in to stop it. Carol I guess, and… what was it, some normal name… Rachel? Laura? Uh, no… something with a B…”

“Becky Ames,” Michael filled in for her. Anna smiled, and the other boot hit the floor.

“Becky, that’s right. Becky and Carol were blowing up at each other over some game or something, and Victor tried to help Carol out. So, was I right? Is she his girlfriend?”

“She might as well be,” Michael hissed spitefully. He realised as he said it that he regretted it. Anna, despite being Victor’s sister, was a stranger. And he did not want to share his personal life with her.

“I get it,” Anna said coolly. “I know what he’s like. I bet there’s a story there that I’m not going to hear.” Michael stared back at her and realised that she was trying to make a joke to lighten the mood.

“No! No, you probably won’t,” he agreed. He would have tried to laugh, if he had been in a better mood, but it was hard to brush off anything to do with Carol MacLaine at the moment. Anna patted a space on the bed beside her and, after considering it, he went to go and sit down next to her.

“You must be pretty down and out,” Anna commented. Michael recalled Victor’s story about him being kicked out of home. Which, he thought, was actually not too far away from being true.

“It’s not… that bad. Why? Did he tell you something else at dinner?” He could have told her anything, it now occurred to Michael. Anna might have completely the wrong impression of him. Not that that should bother him. But he hated the idea that Victor had gone to her, trawling for sympathy.

“No,” Anna laughed to herself. “I meant ‘cause you’re wearing his clothes.” Michael looked down at himself sharply. He still had not gone to get his things from home, and as such was often stuck wearing clothes Victor had lent him. That morning, he had put on Victor’s old cricket jumper, which he supposed was why Anna had recognised it.

“I am,” Michael said slowly. “Yes. I have not had the chance to get my own clothes from home yet.”

“I don’t blame you,” Anna said, leaning her head against her shoulder. “Whatever happened must be pretty bad.” Michael recalled the way his father had been willing to send him down for a murder. Pretty bad would cover that. He nodded, staring off into space. “You don’t have to talk about it,” Anna added, the words vaguely reaching him. “I know we don’t know each other. Probably shouldn’t be talking now, even. It’s bound to get weird.”

“Weird…” Michael echoed.

“Because you’re friends with my brother,” Anna explained. “And seeing as our relationship is already kind of strained, what with him estranging himself straight out of the family and calling me maybe twice a year tops, I’d say we have different impressions of him. They might not match up.”

“Victor never wants to talk about the past,” Michael said softly. “He did not mention a sister, either.” Anna scoffed to herself, smirking.

“No, I expect not,” she said. “Like I said, we’re not close. Not anymore. Not since Boston. After he left, when he decided not to come back with us… shit, I don’t think I should tell you any of this. It’s not my place.”

“You’re right, I don’t want to talk about it,” Michael agreed. He did, of course, because his curiosity had been sparked. But he knew he would regret it later. If, somehow, things sorted themselves out… maybe Victor would tell him in his own time. One day. Anna sighed. She stretched her arms over her head, then afterwards leant her elbows in her lap, planting her chin on her crossed hands.

“I doubt he’ll be back any time soon,” she said. “He let me drive the truck back. He was off all night, anyway. I think he has something to work out.”

“Does he?” Michael asked, far too quickly and eagerly. Anna shot him an inquisitive look, and he felt embarrassed. He had overreacted to a very minor comment. “I mean… he does, I think.”

“I expect he does, if he’s the same as ever,” Anna agreed slowly. “You’re his friend, you know him better. Though you seem like you have your own issues.”

“I suppose that’s accurate,” Michael admitted. He crossed his arms in his lap, hunching over them. He did not want to be reminded of it, or have to think about it, but he supposed even if Anna was not there, it is exactly what he would be doing anyway.

“Do you _want_ to talk about it? People say I’m good at listening.” Michael glanced at her. She looked a lot like her brother. Speaking to her about it would be almost like talking to Victor. Except he would not have to listen to Victor defending himself, or complaining, or whatever it was he was going to do when they finally got around to discussing it.

“Perhaps,” Michael said quietly. No doubt he could stop if he got uncomfortable. “The truth is that… I… something unpleasant happened to me recently. I don’t know how to feel about it now.”

“What was it?” Anna asked.

“My… the person I’m seeing… slept with someone else,” Michael told her. Anna let out a low gasp. Looking at her, with her wide blue eyes open in surprise, Michael felt it was very like talking to Victor. Except he was not angry with _her_. “Yes,” he went on. “I was really starting to… trust them, but they just told me that it had happened. I don’t want to forgive it, but…” He let himself stare at Anna for a moment, imagining it was Victor instead. “I don’t want to lose what we had, either.”

“That’s a real fuckle sandwich,” Anna said. Presumably, it was meant to be sympathetic. “How long have you been together?”

“It’s hard to say when it started,” Michael mumbled. He did not want to admit that his relationship had been painfully short so far. It was still the longest relationship he had ever had, and it felt a lot longer to him than it might to someone else.

“It sounds like they’re playing you,” Anna said. Michael jolted straight-backed in shock.

“No!” he cried out. “No, they wouldn’t do that!” Surely he sounded completely desperate, but he couldn’t stand the implication that his relationship with Victor, under threat already, wasn’t even real to begin with. It was too much at once. “It was a misunderstanding,” he added weakly.

“They misunderstood their way straight into someone else’s face…?” Anna asked. She was goading him, Michael thought, trying to get him to admit that Victor, not that she knew who it was they were discussing, had hurt him on purpose. He refused to agree.

“I just meant…” Michael began, looking for the right words. “They didn’t want to hurt me. They did what they did, but the… hurt… that was an accident.” Anna reached over and gave him a small squeeze to the shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, then. That makes it fine, right?” She was still pushing him. It occurred to Michael finally that she might be trying to get him to stop making excuses for his boyfriend. After all, Victor had done what he had done. Did he deserve any defending?

“No, it doesn’t make it fine, but I don’t know what to do,” Michael moaned. “I just want it to be like it was before! Before this happened…”

“Then fix it,” Anna said bluntly. “If they screwed you over, then screw them over back, and you’ll be even. Then you can move on. It’s no big deal, right? An eye for an eye.”

“Makes the whole world blind,” Michael added. “I couldn’t do anything to hurt Vuh… them. I wouldn’t know how, and I wouldn’t want to… stoop to his level.” And I wouldn’t know how, Michael repeated in thought. The idea of taking some petty revenge was almost appealing, but what was he meant to do? Throw Victor’s clothes out into the street?

“Who did they cheat with?” Anna asked. She cocked her head to the side, and her blonde hair tumbled lightly over her shoulder on one side and her face on the other. A strand of it stuck to her lip.

“There was a woman. They’ve had… feelings of some sort for her for a while. Before we met. I didn’t think it was serious. I didn’t think it meant anything.” Michael hesitated before carrying on, spitefully. “She’s perfectly aggressive, and there’s a good chance that none of it was his idea. She probably suggested it to him, and he… he just… went along with it.” It could be true. He felt he would like it if it was true.

“Not much like you, then, I guess,” Anna said dryly. “She sounds like she’s pretty different to you.”

“She is. We are not alike. I thought I might be more… I thought he preferred me. Now I don’t know.” Michael felt his heart sink as he realised this was exactly right. If Victor had the choice, from the start, who would he have picked? Michael couldn’t know. If he asked, Victor would just lie to him. There was no point.

“That’s hard,” Anna said. She slunk an arm over his shoulder and gave him a quick, supportive shake. “Hey, I know we don’t know each other, but my guess is you can probably do better. Usually people can do better, in these kinds of situations.”

“I don’t want to do better. I want him,” Michael said firmly. “I want him not to have done something that I can’t forgive him for. I want us to be… happy, again.”

“Then screw him over, like I said,” Anna scoffed. “You’ll find it way easier to forgive him if you were a little shit too.”

“That may be logical, but I don’t think I could do anything malicious,” Michael muttered. “I am not typically a malicious person. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

“Sure you do,” Anna said slyly, shaking his shoulders again. “Just do what he did. Fuck someone. You’ll get over what he did like a shot!” Michael looked up at her in alarm.

“What? No. No, I… I couldn’t. I wouldn’t.” It had not occurred to him. There was no-one else. Victor was his first boyfriend, if he could call him that, and his first… everything. Literally, there was no-one else. There never had been.

“Just call up one of your exes, or a friend or something,” Anna suggested. Exes and friends were not something Michael had going in fresh supply.

“I don’t know anyone like that, who I could… I can’t,” he argued. Anna stared at him for a moment, long enough for him to notice. He looked back at her. The effect was disconcerting. It was too much like Victor, but there were enough differences to put the experience somewhere in the uncanny valley. As if he was looking at a robot duplicate. He had to remind himself that twins were perfectly common. He just didn’t especially know any. Or, he should say, not any his own age, that he had ever spoken to.

“I’ll do it if you want,” Anna said softly, suddenly. Michael shivered. Now that she had said it, he could tell that she had been building up to it, thinking it over. He hadn’t seen it coming, though, and he didn’t know what to say now that it was out.

“That is not a good idea,” he said sheepishly.

“No, not really, but it might be a smart one,” Anna reasoned gently. “It might help, I mean. In a roundabout kind of way.”

“Why would you want to?” Michael asked. Anna cast her eyes up and down him so heavily he almost felt the presence as a physical reality on his skin.

“You’re good-looking,” she explained in a soft voice. “I’d like to see how you look without the clothes, too…”

“Wouldn’t you regret it?” Michael asked weakly. “Wouldn’t I…?” He did his best to ignore thinking about her comment. The implication of it.

“Did your boyfriend regret it when he did it? But did it change the fact that it happened? Why shouldn’t you regret something as well?” Anna said back. Michael found himself thinking about what had happened. What Victor did, and how it would have happened. The betrayal was still fresh. Too fresh. And he had never experienced anything quite like it before. The more he thought about it, the more bitter he felt. What Victor had done was awful, surely? He had hurt him, knowingly, hadn’t he? How much did he even regret what had happened with Carol, Michael wondered? Enough that he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, if he had a do-over…?

“All right,” Michael said suddenly. “Yes, I don’t see why not.” He knew he was going to regret it as he said it, but he didn’t care. It would be spiteful. It would feel good. Anna grinned at him, glad that he had come around so quickly. She got to her feet and stood in front of him.

“Let’s not waste any time, then,” she murmured. Michael watched as she unbuttoned her dress down to the waist. He felt a rising sense of anxiety as he realised what he had agreed to do, and tried to swallow it back down. Victor had done it already, he reminded himself. So why not? He attempted to distract himself by watching what was unfurling before him. Anna dropped the dress from her shoulders and then let it fall completely to the floor. She was left in the mottled tights, and a set of matching underwear. Black and white striped. Michael waited silently. If she took the lead, if she was the one doing it all, then he would not feel so bad. He could just let it happen. Anna slid one and then the other of her bra straps down her arms, watching him as she did so. He wondered suddenly if he was saying too little, if he looked bored.

“You’re very pretty,” he blurted out. It did not come over as organic at all, but Anna smirked, and Michael had to assume she had interpreted it as shyness.

“You like girls, then,” she questioned playfully. “You mentioned a boyfriend, but you seem happy enough. So…?”

“Yes, I like women,” Michael said a little defensively. Those that were not Carol MacLaine were acceptable in his book. Any who happened to look very like his boyfriend were automatically elevated a few places.

“That’s good news,” Anna said dreamily. “It would get awkward if you didn’t.” She put a hand behind her back, and a second later the snap of a clasp undoing sounded through the room. She tossed the bra disinterestedly onto the ground and smiled. Michael took a moment to stare, reminding himself as he did so that he was allowed, that this display was for his benefit. The last time he had, very briefly, grazed against a girl’s chest had been when he was fifteen. It was somewhat incomparable to seeing this in person. The two second contact of his fingers across the outside of a friend’s shirt seemed childish in comparison to the half-naked woman standing across from him now. And again, he had to remind himself, this was all for his benefit.

“Can I…?” he found himself asking, feeling at last a small swell of excitement in his chest. “Can I touch you…?” he finished. Anna stepped towards him, leaning in close, and he rested a shaking hand against her skin, feeling the round, soft shape of her tit. He let himself have a second just for that.

“Are you taking anything off?” Anna asked suddenly, stepping back. She placed her hands against her hips, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Smirking again, in the familiar way. Michael got automatically to his feet. He supposed he should. He pulled the cricket jumper over his head. That at least should go. Awkwardly, he found himself handing it to Anna, who took it with a raised eyebrow and tossed it away. Michael reached for the button of his trousers, fumbling with it, just as he realised that it was too early for him. He had been too preoccupied to spend much time enjoying the moment, and as a result, he was still flat. He felt that might be a bad start to this particular encounter.

“Why don’t you finish undressing first?” he suggested, hoping it was not over the line. In contrast, Anna seemed amused.

“Bossy!” she laughed, as she peeled her tights swiftly down her legs. “I like it. As you wish.” It happened quickly, and in a moment, she was completely naked. Michael cleared his throat. He was not a virgin anymore, thanks to Victor, but he had not seen a woman completely undressed before, either. It was a difficult position to be in. Hopefully he could wing it. Anna slid a hand across the crotch of his trousers and he gasped in surprise, having not noticed her arm move towards him. She was not gentle. She grasped him roughly through the fabric, and he whimpered lightly as he felt himself hardening in response. He supposed it was the most efficient approach, after all.

“Anna, I… uh…” He did not know exactly what he meant to say. Maybe he wanted to object, maybe it still wasn’t quite too late. But whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t.

“I hope you don’t go in too much for foreplay,” Anna said tiredly. “I quite fancy just getting this done, don’t you? Wham, bam, revenge messily delivered?” Michael nodded. He was not paying much attention. Whatever she had said, it was fine by him. Anna took his agreement in good spirits. Without him having to do a thing, she unbuttoned his trousers and, seconds later, was squeezing her fingers tightly around his cock.

“Ah, that’s… you…”

“You’re only at half-mast, Michael,” Anna laughed. “Come on! Let’s just sort of start, anyway, it’ll be fine.” She eased herself past him and lay down on the bed, head towards him, smiling darkly in his direction. Michael did not think much. It did not even occur to him to remove the rest of his clothes. He climbed up onto the bed after her, positioning himself over her, leaning on his forearms, and waited for her to tell him what to do next. He had had sex with Victor again since their first time together, but just the once, and it had been the same arrangement as before. He hoped Anna would spare him and simply take over from here. It would be humiliating to fumble around, trying to get things going on his own.

“I feel ready, if you are,” he mumbled, dropping the invitation for her to take control. Obligingly, Anna dug his cock out through the close of his trousers, and ran her hand across it, encouraging it to stiffen enough for them to be able to sleep together. Michael panted gently at the feeling of her soft hand stroking him, closing his eyes and, he would not like to admit out loud, imagining Victor. At least Anna knew, he thought, what this was. So did he. There was no misunderstanding. This was just a game for them. Anna’s legs shifted underneath his body, and she planted them either side of his waist. She let go of his cock, and wrapped her arms around his back.

“Stick it in then, Michael, I can’t wait to see what you can do with that bottle rocket.” The giggle that accompanied her comment made Michael feel uneasy. Certainly, he did not feel fully prepared to do this. Certainly, he still loved Victor, and knew that Victor was the only person he wanted to be with. But that was why he was doing this, he reminded himself crossly. That was the whole point. He wanted Victor back. This would help him to forgive. How could he stay angry with Victor, once he had done exactly the same thing?

Michael pushed the doubt aside. It wasn’t as if he didn’t want to. In one way, he very much did want to. The idea had started to appeal quite a lot after Anna had first begun undressing. He was already here. He allowed himself a weak smile. Besides, it might be interesting to try with a woman, as well. Another thing that would even things up between him and Victor, another point of comparison for the two of them. Carefully, he took his cock in his hand, and edged it inside Anna, a centimetre at a time. He recalled the way Victor had done it to him, and tried to mimic it. He felt the warmth surrounding him and sighed softly at the new sensation. Anna wrapped her leg over his and guided him in deeper, and he felt that he could certainly see the appeal of this act. Though it did not yet seem like it would have been worth cheating on him for.

“This is nice, Anna,” he mumbled. He felt he should say something, though he had no idea what. He reminded himself that he was still here with a stranger. Despite this bit of intimacy, they did not know each other at all. He had no idea if she was like Victor as a person, if she would joke around in the same way that he did. Whether she wouldn’t like that.

“Let’s shoot for great, rather than nice, shall we?” Anna whispered, close to the side of his face. To punctuate, she gave him a quick bite on the ear. Michael thought he should at least attempt to impress her. He steadied himself on his forearms and began to move in shallow thrusts inside her, moaning softly to himself, and not to her, at the feeling of friction that came with it. He kept his eyes closed. Really, he didn’t want to remember who he was with. Thinking about it too hard would upset him. He liked to think of himself, largely, as a good person. Doing this was not at all in line with that image. But Victor had done it first, he reminded himself. He was the cheater. This was just… an eye for an eye, as Anna had said.

Anna dug her fingernails into his back, and Michael hissed in pain. In the moment, he opened his eyes, and saw her face, startling himself. The waves of blonde hair laid out against the pillow, the fixed smirk, and the blue eyes staring back at him felt too much like Victor’s, as if this woman had stolen them, somehow. Uncomfortably, he closed his eyes again. This had been the wrong person to pick, he felt, even if he was going to take petty revenge like this. Anna was not the right person to join him in it.

“You have pretty eyes,” she breathed, suddenly. “Won’t you open them? That dark green reminds me of the forest around here, don’t you think so?”

“I don’t… know,” Michael said, but he hated to risk being impolite, and at her request he opened his eyes. He chose to glance down at her mouth instead of her face. Watching her form heavy breaths was attractive, and he decided it would work for him. He kept on at his slow rhythm, pumping into Anna and relishing the warm feeling wrapped around his cock. It was certainly distracting. He would admit his mood was considerably better than it had been earlier.

“You’re hot, you know…” Anna murmured near his cheek. “But go harder.” Michael tried to oblige. He didn’t find it especially easy to do. Anna sighed under him, and he was well aware it was not in enjoyment, but with frustration. That did not help matters. Michael began to panic slightly, knowing he was doing things wrong, but not knowing how to fix it. He was about to offer to stop when Anna grabbed hold of him by the hips.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he babbled, expecting her to eject him and chastise his efforts. She did not. Instead, Anna pulled hard on his hips, dragging him deeper into her, then back. Michael realised that she was going to, as he recalled Victor had put it once, ‘drive’. He relaxed at once. He was happy to let her. He felt no shame in admitting that he was an overthinker, and could not easily lose himself in the moment when he didn’t know what he was meant to be doing. If Anna could show him, then he would know for next time. If there was a next time, of this sort.

“That’s better,” Anna sighed thankfully, guiding him forcefully by the hips. “Keep going, can you do that?” Michael nodded. Now that he was in the right rhythm, he could. The rougher thrusts felt better, he admitted to himself. He wondered whether it would be polite to ask for more advice. He supposed he wasn’t going to see Anna again, or he hoped not, so even if it wasn’t the right thing to do, he could get away with it.

“Tell me what to do,” he breathed sharply. Anna giggled to herself. Her cheeks had pinkened, he noticed. He hoped that meant she was enjoying herself more.

“Will you let me do what I want…?” she asked, the question hanging dangerously in the air. Michael was hesitant. She could mean anything, he supposed, but surely… surely, he should just trust her.

“Yes, whatever you want,” he muttered. He was beginning to find himself too distracted to argue. The sensation of Anna around him, the tight heat of it, made it hard to focus on much else. Momentarily, he found his mind flash an image of Victor and Carol across his vision, and he let out a frustrated groan. Why should he have to think about that right now?

Anna lifted her head and kissed him on the neck. Kissing, Michael thought. He had not remembered to kiss Anna before they started this. The idea embarrassed him and he quickly placed a much-delayed kiss on her cheek. Good enough. Anna barely reacted. She was distracted. In an instant, she sunk her teeth into the delicate flesh of his neck and sucked hard around the bite. Michael jerked sharply.

“Anna!” he cried out.

“Did I hurt you?” she asked, disinterestedly. “Sorry. You said whatever.” He had said that. He couldn’t argue. He just hoped she would not do it again, it had hurt. Mercifully, she did not. Instead she went back to moving his hips for him, and the rough speed which she forced him to provide began to quickly overwhelm him. Michael had little reason to hold off. It seemed that any attempt to especially impress Anna had already failed, and as this was a one-off, he did not think there was much point in dragging things out. It was not like there was any hope of earning a repeat performance later. Besides, he wanted to come. He knew it was going to be a good one.

Michael allowed himself, just for a second, to glance up at Anna’s eyes. The rich blue, the dark lashes. She was pretty, he thought. He would never be doing this now if he wasn’t dating her brother, sure, but she was still pretty. For a moment, he could manage to only think about that. He was having sex with a pretty girl who liked him well enough, even if they were strangers, and the circumstances were not ideal. That was enough. He felt his orgasm building and let out a self-indulgent moan, making no attempt to hold back at all. He could not tell how long they had been at it, but he knew that it was not long. He should really try to wait, if he wanted to be fair. But why? It wasn’t going to matter. He would never sleep with her again. As he crossed the point of no return, he pressed his mouth hard against Anna’s, pushing his tongue into her mouth and, with a last sharp thrust, came inside her. He gave a few weak pumps as he rode the orgasm out and, admittedly, it did feel quite fantastic. It probably helped that he had never done this inside another person before. As soon as it ended, he quickly excised himself from the kiss and, in the same moment, withdrew his cock. He rolled over onto his side, breathing heavily, and looking back at Anna. She turned her face lazily towards him.

“Well, there you go,” she said, sounding more English than before. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

“Yes,” he answered, adding, “Thank you.” Anna laughed. She sat up and turned away. Michael brushed his hair from his face and, suddenly, it hit him hard. He had cheated. He was no better than Victor had been. His heart skipped unhappily at the thought. He would never have done this, he was sure he could never have done this. Why had he done this? This was not who he was. He would never cheat. It could hurt people, very badly. It had certainly hurt him. What had he done? Why had he fucking done this?

“Michael.” Anna was talking, but he barely remembered that she was still in the room. He was deep inside his own head, struck by the stupid thing he had done. “You’re more into guys, yeah? I mean, you don’t sleep with women much?” He could hardly hear her. It kept repeating in his head: What did you do? What did you do? Suddenly, Anna was in front of him, snapping her fingers angrily in his face. He sat up sharply.

“Excuse me? Sorry?” he mumbled. Anna sighed.

“I’m getting dressed,” she said simply. He saw she was already mostly done with it, just doing up the buttons on her dress. He had to do the same. He adjusted himself and rebuttoned his trousers, getting off the bed and looking for where she had put the jumper he’d had on earlier. Just as he saw it, he heard the front door. A fresh wave of horror went through him. Victor was home. He would find out. He would find out what had happened. Michael snatched the jumper up and dragged it over his head. He was just straightening it up when the bedroom door opened and, there again, was Victor.

“Hello you two,” he said, glancing from Michael to Anna. “Talking about me?”

“Maybe,” Anna scoffed. “What else is there to do?” Michael looked across at her. She seemed calm. Indifferent. What they had done was not affecting her at all. That, or she was a good liar.

“Is my sister filling your head with lies about me, Michael?” Victor asked, laughing a little uncomfortably. The tension from before was still there. Victor’s guilt, Michael realised. He recognised it well enough now. He had never felt so guilty in his life.

“Nothing,” he said nervously. “She’s said nothing.” Victor frowned at him, walking into the room, folding his arms over his chest. The well of dread inside Michael felt as though it was poisoning him.

“Are you okay?” he asked. With concern, Michael thought sadly. “You seem off. And it’s a nice clear day, or it was, so that’s… what’s wrong?” Michael was not going to be able to lie. He knew it. He had no idea what to say. His mouth opened and he glanced shamefacedly at Anna, who did not look back at him. Not Anna, he thought. Victor’s sister. She was Victor’s sister. His twin sister.

“Anna, did you say something to him?” Victor asked, frowning at his sister. She shrugged.

“No, you know me,” she said, disinterestedly. “Why would I need to shit-talk you to your boyfriend? Don’t you fuck up enough on your own?” The word smacked Michael square in the chest. Boyfriend. So he had given it away, then. Anna had known he was talking about Victor all along. No doubt he had not been subtle about it. But if she had known… she had still slept with him. Encouraged it.

Victor looked between the two of them again, suspicious and confused. Michael could not think of anything to say, nothing at all. He knew what was coming. He knew. Victor’s gaze stayed on him for a moment, and he took a step cautiously towards Michael.

“You got something…” Victor began. “You…” He pointed vaguely to his neck, but as he did so, realisation dawned across his face. There it was, Michael thought. Still, he felt the urge to cover up the evidence, and smacked his hand over the hickey Anna had left on his throat. Victor shook his head slightly, side to side, frowning in confusion.

“Well, I wanna go and get a shower,” Anna said breezily.

“You wait a fucking minute!” Victor snapped. “Anna, did you? Did you seriously?” The two twins glared at one another. Victor with a scowl, Anna with a faint smirk.

“Victor,” she said darkly. “You never treat them well, you know that. You can’t expect them to stick around forever, can you? You always treat people like they’re shit to you. Hell, you’re lucky I still talk to you after the mess you dragged me into. You know dad didn’t talk to me for two weeks, don’t you? Not that you care.” Michael could hear the poison in her voice, now. He realised that, perhaps, their little rut had been revenge at both ends.

“Anna! You… you fucking –” Victor began, wounded and angry, but she snorted. Her smirk was gone, she was staring icily at him now.

“It wasn’t even hard,” she said meanly. “He went straight for it. You cheated on him, so you can hardly complain. He was right to screw you back.” Anna turned her head sharply and fixed Michael with her cold glare, looking him up and down with a severe lack of interest. “As for me… we can call it quits on Katya.” She pushed past Victor, knocking into his shoulder, and marched out of the room. Slamming the door behind her.

“Katya was using you, _sis_!” Victor shouted angrily after her. “She didn’t give a shit about you, you should have thanked me for getting you out of it!”

“She was my first girlfriend, you stupid bastard!” came the sound of Anna’s return shout. “Go fuck yourself! Dad was right to tell me not to waste the plane fare on you!” Victor screwed his hands into fists, clenched his eyes shut, and let out a loud, angry grunt. When he opened his eyes, he fixed them straight on Michael, who cowered. He did not know what to expect. Victor stormed towards him, and Michael felt ready to be screamed at. He deserved it, after all.

“Michael, I’m sorry,” Victor said flatly. Michael froze. That had not been what he was expecting.

“ _You’re_ sorry?” he repeated.

“Well, you wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t do it first. So yeah. I am.” Victor frowned, his face downcast. Michael was feeling guilty enough already, and while he appreciated the intent of this apology, it was not helping.

“I should have… I made such a huge mistake! It was… please forgive me for this!” Michael let the words out in hiccups as he began to cry. Victor blinked back at him. As Michael wiped frantically at his eyes, he heard Victor sigh, and a second later he was pressed into a tight hug. Victor patted him on the back and Michael sobbed.

“Come on, Michael…”

“You have to forgive me, tell me you do. It was awful for me to hurt you,” Michael cried.

“I do, I do,” Victor said hurriedly. “Like I said it was… I started it. Now we’re even, right? It’s fine. It’ll be fine, I forgive you.” Michael nodded frantically into Victor’s neck and found himself clutching him back. He realised that he had let go of his own anger and hurt very quickly upon finishing up his revenge. At least Anna had been right about that. Not that she had lied to him, he was forced to suppose. She had just encouraged him to do something stupid. Victor hugged him until he stopped crying, then took his hand and led him over to the bed, where they both sat.

“It was stupid of me, and petty,” Michael blurted out.

“Michael,” Victor said firmly. “I told you I forgive you, and I do. I won’t hold this against you, because I know what I did. I hurt you, and I hurt you first. But bearing that in mind, and please do bear that in mind…” He turned on him sharply. “ _My sister_?!” he shouted, utter exasperation in his voice. Michael got the sense that he wasn’t even angry so much as amazed.

“Yes… that was wrong of me,” Michael said in a small voice. As if he could justify it. Victor laughed, a disjointed sort of laugh, as if he couldn’t quite decide how to feel.

“You wait, what, a day? A day after you break up with me and you’re in my sister’s guts, Mickey!” Victor snapped, but he was still laughing through it, and it was beginning to sound more genuine, more amused. Michael laughed weakly to himself. Hoping there was something funny about it.

“Wait!” he said suddenly. “No, no… we have not broken up. You’re still my boyfriend. Please say that you are!” he looked frantically at Victor who shot him a look that surely said ‘really?’

“We’re going to have to do some making up,” Victor muttered. “Some serious making up, once I process this exciting new information. But sure. I guess we’re… boyfriends, if you like.” Michael didn’t care about the caveats, or the tone. The relief was tangible. He found himself kissing Victor, peppering his cheek and lips with dozens of little kisses of thanks. Victor laughed as he was kissed with, Michael thought, some sense of shyness. Just a touch of it.

“We will. We can,” Michael agreed. “Anything you want.” Victor grinned.

“Great,” he teased. “Tell me you didn’t waste the last of my rubber on this little affair, eh?”

“Oh! That, uh… n-no…” Michael found himself flushing with embarrassment. Victor stared at him in disbelief.

“ _Are you serious_?” he asked. He yanked open the bedside drawer and counted, then shoved it shut and stared at Michael, hands out wide as if he was asking a question with fingers alone. “You _rawed_ my sister?” he asked with a sense of horror and amazement. “It wasn’t enough to bang her, you had to really _feel_ it?!”

“Victor, I… she did not bring it up, and I was not particularly in my best mind! I was distracted, by… by justifying it to myself. It didn’t really occur to me –” Michael’s frantic reasoning was interrupted. Victor put a finger to Michael’s lips and shushed him.

“No, no,” he whispered. “Sssh, shut the fuck up. So.” He fixed Michael with a familiar, teasing grin. “What are you naming it?”

“Naming what?” Michael asked. This incident? Did it need a name?

“Your baby,” Victor sneered, matter-of-factly. “I can only assume, like, that that’s what happens next.” Michael’s face fell and his eyes widened in horror. No, that possibility had not occurred to him. He should really thank Victor for bringing it up, he felt so much better about the cheating now that his anxiety had found a new focus. “Anna won’t be much cop as a parent, though,” Victor went on coolly, having too much fun tormenting Michael. “But mam and the old man will love you! Sure! Finally getting her to settle down. Just don’t tell them how you two met, it’ll make it too weird, don’t you think?” Michael felt sick, anxiety rolling uncomfortably in his stomach. He hoped he didn’t throw up. “Sure you’ll have cute babies,” Victor teased, eking out his words for maximum pain delivery. “I mean, after the wedding, anyway. Family’s a bit traditional that way. Sure, knock up their daughter if you like, but you’d better be ready to sign your name afterwards. Do you think she’ll wear white?”

“Anna!” Michael half-shouted, half-screamed. “Anna, please, please come here!” Victor sniggered to himself as the sound of footsteps came through the hallway. Anna opened the door and stuck her head around it.

“I sort of thought I’d grab a shower and lie low for a while…” she said uncertainly. “And I’ll clear off to my friend’s tomorrow, Victor, don’t you worry about that. I was more interested in heading there anyway.”

“Later, sis, later,” Victor said, forgetting in the moment that he was angry with her, in favour of carrying on his prank. “Michael has a question for you.” Anna looked across at Michael and frowned at the sight of his ashen, terrified face. “Oh, what the hell, I’ll blow it!” Victor said immediately. “He’s ready to pop the question, Anna.” He stared at his sister and carried on, in a deadly serious voice. “Will you accept the poor boy’s heart?”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Anna cried out, confused all over.

“He thinks you’re fucking pregnant,” Victor scoffed, laughing. “Put him out of his misery. He doesn’t need to be punished any more than he has been.” He idly patted Michael on the shoulder.

“Anna, I would… I suppose I would, if you wanted me to…” Michael babbled. “Or, whatever you need! I just… I believe in standing up when you make this sort of error, and I –”

“I’m on the pill,” Anna said flatly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t let him wind you up, god!” She turned away and vanished back into the house, shutting the door again in her wake. Michael sat in stunned silence as Victor screamed with laughter next to him, shaking and holding tight to his sides.

“Okay, okay…” he moaned as the laughter finally faded. “It was all worth it. All worth it for that. That was beautiful.” Michael turned to look at him and realised that Victor must have known all along that he was spouting nonsense just to punish him.

“Victor, why would you –” he began angrily, but Victor cut him off with a kiss, tousling Michael’s hair through his fingers as he did so. Michael forgave him. It didn’t really matter, he supposed. He had managed to forgive Victor, and reckless and mean-spirited as his revenge had been, he had been forgiven in turn. There was no point worrying. It was better to focus on the bright side.


	4. Four

Anna spent the night on the sofa and, after a painfully silent breakfast, left to go over to Seattle to meet her friend. Victor was not sad to see her go, which he told her to her face. However, Michael did notice the two of them share a brief and stilted hug before she left, so he wondered if perhaps they were used to these kinds of upsets, and recovering from them afterwards. He did not know if that made him feel better or worse. Once she was gone, Michael was about to suggest that Victor join him in watching television, which was a code word for talking about their feelings. Victor apologised and said he had to go and buy groceries, leaving the house before Michael could argue. Which left Michael alone, where he waited impatiently for Victor to return.

When Michael heard the sound of the door opening, he hopped up from the bed where he had been reading, and rushed into the living room. Victor, true to his word, was carrying a heavy brown bag of groceries, which he dropped lazily onto the sofa.

“Victor, you’re home!” Michael said, realising that it sounded desperate even to him. Victor smiled uncertainly at him.

“That I appear to be,” he agreed. “And I even brought bread. Consider yourself spoilt!” Michael glanced momentarily at the bag, and then back at Victor with a smile.

“Victor, perhaps now we can really sit down and talk –” he began, but was interrupted by the sound of the landline ringing. He sighed under his breath as Victor held up a finger to stop him and went to answer it. Victor brought the handset up to rest against his shoulder.

“Yellow…” he said, then stopped. He looked over his shoulder at Michael before clutching the phone tighter to his ear. “Yup,” he muttered. “Sure. Uh-huh.”

“Who is it?” Michael mouthed. Victor did not get a great many calls. He had received one from an angry publisher last week, calling about a missed deadline, but Victor had justified himself afterwards by pointing out that websites calling themselves ‘up to the minute precognitive news streams’ had to be frauds if they had both hired him to write a piece for them, and expected him to keep the deadline.

“Yeah in the… you know,” Victor mumbled into the phone, turning away from Michael. “It’s not a big deal, just… uh-huh. I understand.” Michael frowned to himself. He had an inkling of who might have called. As Victor continued to mutter his half of the conversation as non-committaly as possible, Michael marched up behind him. In a swift motion, he plucked the phone out from Victor’s hand, and pressed it to his ear.

“Who is calling?” he asked in his most precise, crisp voice. There was a moment of silence on the other end.

“Is that Michael Tillotson?” came the reply. Michael scowled. Carol.

“Why, yes it is. Carol MacLaine. How are you keeping?” he asked politely, brushing the waving and pleading hands Victor held out for the phone aside and stepping across the room. He heard Victor let out a low, unhappy moan.

“How the fuck do you – What are you doing there? Weren’t you on the run?” Carol let the sneer run smoothly into her voice and Michael tensed with anger. As if she had the right. He was the one who got to be angry with her.

“I was not,” he answered calmly, though he hoped Carol sensed the cold anger behind his words. “I… misplaced myself, at an unfortunate time, I will admit. Then, it seemed as if my side of the story did not fit.” He heard Carol scoff. “Yes, well, I’m slowly getting out of the habit,” he added and then clenched his eyes shut for a moment when he realised he had made a third rhyme without intending one. Victor let out a nervous, bubbling laugh behind his back. He had better get comfortable standing there. Michael had no intention of handing back the phone just yet.

“Put Victor back on the phone. Why are you even at his house?” Carol snapped. Michael turned and fixed Victor with a second-long gaze that could have flash-frozen lava.

“How did you get this number?” Michael asked coolly.

“He gave it to me, you idiot, now pass the phone back over!” Carol snarled back at him, growing audibly frustrated. Michael put on a slim smile at the thought that he was annoying her. “I wasn’t done!” she added.

“This was shortly after the two of you slept together?” Michael asked, the polite and indifferent phrasing rather offset by the question.

“What?” Carol snapped. “Excuuuuse me?! Is that your fucking business? Just put –”

“As it happens,” Michael stage-whispered dryly. “It rather is my business. Because Victor Chewits and I are romantically involved. So, you can see my objection to your calling here, calling him.” He felt pleased with himself, and was surprised when Carol snorted with unamused laughter in response.

“I don’t give a shit!” Carol spat back. “You think that’s why I’m calling? Idiot! It was a stupid, split-second mistake and he didn’t even come. He started blabbing something about having to leave, because… look, I don’t fucking care. I was just trying to thank him for yesterday at the diner. But if his pissy little boyfriend is so possessive that that isn’t allowed, you can both hang.” Appropriately, as she finished speaking, the line went dead. She had hung up. Michael waited for a second and then placed the phone back on the hook. As he did so, he realised he had made a small mistake.

“Victor,” Michael said levelly. “What exactly happened with Carol yesterday? Wasn’t there a fight?”

“Yeah…” Victor said weakly. “I mean, _we_ didn’t fight. This other girl started going off at her. Something about the girl who died? How it was all Carol’s fault, and stuff. Anyway, I just… thought it might be gentlemanly to offer a hand and, you know, _not_ have to watch them scratch each other’s eyes out and start bathing in each other’s blood. They serve food there, Michael.” He shrugged. Michael frowned. He supposed, while he had been getting to know Victor’s sister, Victor had actually been trying to do a good deed. And Carol’s description, which he grudgingly trusted, of the events at her bar did not match up with what he had pictured in his head.

“Victor,” Michael said softly. “I think I may have done a worse thing to you than you did to me.” Victor looked at him with surprise as Michael stood grey-faced, staring vaguely at the floor. Victor let out a loud sigh and came over and patted him supportively on the back.

“I told you it’s done,” he sighed. “I let it go. People have done worse to me, you know, you’re still… in the top thirty percent of people I’ve dated.” Michael looked up sharply and fearfully and Victor rolled his eyes. “Joking,” he muttered. “It’s higher than that, I’m sure.”

“I’d like it to be,” Michael mumbled. “I want you to…” He stopped himself. He knew what he wanted to say. He had wanted to say it for a while, and having realised that things could very quickly and easily go wrong, he now wanted to say it more than ever. Quickly, he ran through it in his head, to see if it was the right decision. But he had already made up his mind.

Michael sighed gently and looked directly at Victor. His expression was slightly melancholy, but he felt light and hopeful inside. Victor sensed that something was about to happen and kept his mouth thoughtfully shut.

“I want you to love me,” Michael said softly. “Because I really think that I… love you.” Victor stood frozen for a moment, and Michael took the opportunity to kiss him, which he realised they had not done since that one frantic and quite needy apology kiss the day before. He kissed him delicately, pressing his lips gently against Victor’s, and lightly grasping Victor’s shoulders. When he pulled away, he waited. Hoping he was going to hear what he wanted to hear.

“Michael…” Victor slowly began. “I want you to know that I do, weirdly for me, have feelings for you. And I like spending time with you. And you are, not to put too fine a point on it, cute in a way that feels illegal. But I don’t fall in love easily, and this is too fast for me. So, I… I appreciate it. And I really… it _means_ something to me, what you’re saying. It means a lot. I just hope you won’t be hurt if I… can’t say that back.” Michael was, a little. But he realised that Victor wasn’t being unfair, and he appreciated the honesty.

“Yet?” he asked, hoping this little nudge at least would be accepted.

“Yet,” Victor admitted, running a hand uncomfortably through his hair and groaning a little to himself. “We’ll just see how it goes, okay?”

“I know where it is going,” Michael said, unable to help himself. “Because I do love you, and I will make sure you love me too. Even if I have to wait.” He smiled. Victor smiled back, though, Michael thought, the expression perhaps had some mild terror to it.

“Let’s start with dinner, shall we, Romeo?” Victor muttered, going for the grocery bag to avoid eye contact. “I got us some fancy cheese.”


	5. Five

By the next day, things felt more normal. Michael had high hopes that they could put everything behind them and simply carry on as if nothing had happened. He and Victor were on the sofa, ostensibly watching Night of the Living Dead, but Michael had his head on Victor’s lap and was flipping through a book instead. Whenever he heard shouting on screen, he briefly looked over, and then went back to his book.

“How many times have you seen this?” Michael asked vaguely, only half aware that he was speaking out loud.

“A shit load,” Victor answered, without looking down. “How many times have you questioned my dedication to George?”

“What?” Michael asked sharply.

“Romero?” Victor added, ruffling Michael’s hair. “Who did you thi–”

“Nothing,” Michael quickly muttered. He had not been thinking. Now that they had started a conversation, he was tempted to go on, with some of the things that had been on his mind. He wanted to ask Victor some more about his history, but was aware that he needed at least a perfunctory transition into the kind of conversation Victor liked to avoid. He resisted talking about himself harder than he resisted updating his dress sense beyond the eighties, Michael thought.

“You look like you’re thinking hard,” Victor teased. He had paused the movie, Michael realised.

“Oh, it occurred to me…” Michael started, rapidly trying to pick the right lead in. “I was thinking that your sister did not have a very particular accent.” Victor looked incredulously down at him.

“Is that what attracted you to her, huh?” he snorted. “She told you have a nice _aaahse_ and you turned to butter?” Michael frowned back up at him in turn.

“No, I believe it was her delicate feminine sensibility,” he said dryly. “Surely the same thing that attracted you to Carol MacLaine, wouldn’t you say?” Victor laughed and he smiled, watching his little jab go over well. “I just meant,” he carried on. “It is hard to tell where she is from. And your accent is at least mostly American now, so I think overall –”

“All right, all right, FBI,” Victor sighed pleasantly. “I get where you’re going with it. Damn, you’re bad at that. Subtlety really is not your strong suit, which I guess isn’t surprising for an occasional zombie with a rhyming habit.” Michael waited expectantly. Victor let out a breath and idly fiddled with his own hair. “Well we were born in Yorkshire, but the family moved to Boston for a while in our teens. I just didn’t… leave again.”

“And they did?” Michael asked.

“And they did indeed,” Victor repeated. “So there were some issues, and we’re not talking about them, and I’ve moved around a bit ever since, and now I am here. Right where you want me, you lucky boy. I imagine you have your own story and your own issues that we’re not gonna talk about. And that’s just fine with me. Don’t we all, right?” He smiled bitterly to himself and Michael felt almost sorry for bringing it up, though it was hard to argue with himself when he had got what he wanted. He leant up and kissed Victor and found that Victor wrapped his arms around him, holding him up. As their kissing slowly became more heated, Michael had another thought.

“Victor…” he said, as he broke away. “There is something else.”

“I’m an Aquarius, and I hate long walks on the beach,” Victor teased. Michael gave him a flat expression for his trouble.

“No, not another question,” he fussed. “I meant that we haven’t… spent any real _time_ together since everything that happened.” Victor slowly grew a smirk up one side of his face that made Michael twitchy.

“I catch your drift,” Victor murmured darkly. “Now that you’ve gone and over-sampled at Anna’s little ice cream parlour, I guess that whole taking things slow idea is off the table?” He paused for effect, pushing his face against Michael’s so that their noses prodded one another, and whispering roughly, “or I’ve just got you hot.”

“Some… some of both,” Michael admitted in a warm out-breath. “Do you want to?”

“Well, I always want to,” Victor said cheerfully. “Unless I’m writing. Or eating pizza, I guess. You know, taking care of man’s other needs.”

“Victor, a human’s needs go beyond shovelling junk food into their mouth and writing dirty poems,” Michael sighed frantically. It was a battle he had been trying to win for a while now.

“You are wrong, but fine,” Victor said. “I accept your offer. But hey. If you want, we could do something a bit… fun.” He punctuated this statement with his typical over-amused grin and Michael shivered. But he already knew that he was going to say yes.

“Absolutely,” he agreed. “As you said, we have things to make up to each other. I would like to give you a… proper, full-bodied apology… if you would let me.” He smiled himself, a softer and less elaborate one than Victor’s, but with a slight biting of his lip that implied plenty.

“Give me ten minutes,” Victor babbled, easing Michael off his lap and hurrying out of the room. Michael watched him slam the bedroom door behind him. And smirked to himself.

\--

Nine minutes later, Michael heard knocking from the inside of the door. He got up and walked over to it. Playfully, he called out “Who’s there?”

“Come in and find out,” Victor called back. Michael pushed the handle and stepped into the room, jumping when he caught sight of Victor.

“And what exactly is that?” he gasped. Victor stood across from him grinning foolishly. He was wearing a black and rather painfully tight PVC dress with decorations that implied a maid’s costume, down to the ruffled rubber sleeves and stencilled on apron. Underneath were some dark stockings and, for some reason, Victor had laced his boots back up over the top. No, actually, Michael was wrong. They were different boots, they had more of a platform. Which made Victor slightly taller than him.

“Do you like it?” Victor asked, spreading his arms invitingly wide. Michael continued to stare for a moment before remembering to reply.

“You simply threw that on…?” he asked in amazement. Victor looked down at himself, smiling dirtily at the sight.

“It was in the closet,” he answered. “One of my ex-girlfriends was big into dress up, and I tried on something of hers once when I was bored. Turns out I’m better looking than her. Maybe it’s the hips.” He twitched his eyebrows playfully. “So then… give me an opinion.”

“I think it… suits you,” Michael mumbled. It certainly did. Victor went over and picked up the gasmask that had been left lying just under the bed. He held it up in front of his face.

“Matches!” he declared happily. “Think this would suit me, too?”

“I think you should make good on your promise to l-let me apologise to you!” Michael blurted out, feeling his cheeks growing hotter by the second. Victor tossed the mask back onto the ground, walked across the room, and pressed him into a tight hug and a firm kiss. Michael felt Victor’s hands squeezing his ribs, and that mixed with the roughness of the kiss, made him decide that he couldn’t wait. He pushed Victor off, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and turned his attention to the buttons of his jacket. He had put on his suit that morning, and now regretted how much unbuttoning there would be to do.

“You know, if you like…” Victor began slowly. “You can dress up a little too…?” The suggestion took a second to register in Michael’s badly distracted brain, but when it did, he laughed awkwardly at the idea.

“Oh, now… I don’t know,” he said. “I think I would look silly.”

“No, no, no, au contraire!” Victor cried out. “You’d be an utter fucking vision!” Michael blushed, this time from shyness rather than desire. He still found himself unable to accept compliments. Though Victor liked to drop them on him. He was beginning, painfully, to believe that they might be sincere.

“Do you think so?” Michael asked shyly. “Ah, but, you probably don’t have anything else anyway.”

“Wrong again, Tillotson,” Victor scoffed. “I have just the thing for you!” He marched over to the wardrobe, and Michael didn’t try to stop himself from tilting his head and learning that Victor was wearing women’s underwear as well. He audibly hummed to himself at the discovery. Victor thumbed through the clothes hanging up, before rifling through a plastic box sitting in the bottom of the wardrobe. Eventually, he found what he wanted, and turned back to Michael.

“Sit on the bed,” he said. Michael was glad. His knees were starting to have trouble holding him up, anyway. He went and planted himself on the edge of the bed, hastily finishing the jacket buttons and peeling it off as he did so. Victor took slow, meaningful steps towards him, hands behind his back. When he reached Michael, Victor dangled his find in front of his face. Pale white stockings, made of something silky. “Lean back a bit,” Victor added. Michael obliged him, resting back on his arms. Victor placed the stockings on the bed, then began work undressing him, carefully removing his shoes, his socks, and guiding his trousers down his legs. Michael sat patiently and watched Victor as he slowly took everything off him. Victor unwrapped Michael’s tie, undid the buttons of his shirt, and took both away from him, chucking them lightly onto the floor with the rest of the clothes. Michael was left in his underwear, growing less patient, but staying still. Victor reached for the first stocking. He straightened one of Michael’s legs out, and began winding the fabric slowly up the skin, up the thigh, and then, when it was in place, gave it a small kiss at the top. He did the same with the other leg, another kiss, and then smiled up at Michael, eyes lidded.

“Now can we –” Michael began.

“Just one more thing!” Victor insisted. “Come over here.” He went back towards the wardrobe and Michael, sighing, followed. Victor traced a finger lazily across the hem of Michael’s boxers before tugging them down. He traced the same finger up the length of Michael’s cock, while Michael moaned and stomped his foot impatiently. Victor found the thing he wanted in the wardrobe right away. He wound the garter belt around Michael’s waist and clipped it in place, then began fiddling with the ties to attach it to the stockings. Michael stared down at Victor bobbing as he tried and failed to get the things in place, and smiled with amusement as Victor hissed out swears when his fingers couldn’t manage the job. Michael giggled, and Victor snorted. He leant up and slid his mouth over Michael’s cock, to which Michael immediately gasped, and took hold of Victor’s hair, caught off guard. Victor sucked twice and then pulled away, laughing to himself. He managed the fasteners and stood up.

“Oh, I thought you might…” Michael began disappointedly, glancing downwards as he spoke. Victor raised an eyebrow and cocked his head.

“I thought I was the one getting an apology?” he said. Michael pouted, looking dejectedly back at Victor, but decided it was for the best. He didn’t want to waste it. “Step back for me?” Victor asked, and Michael did, to which Victor let out a low whistle. “Better than I thought,” he said.

“Stop it,” Michael mumbled. “I mean, if anything, you’re the one who… looks… is nice to look at.” Victor stepped forward, laughing, and took Michael by the hand, he twirled him on the spot and then caught him when he wobbled. “Could we please…” Michael mumbled.

“Please what?” Victor drawled, teasing. “Go ahead and ask.”

“I want you,” Michael muttered under his breath. Victor walked him over to the wall, closing him in against it til Michael’s back was pressed firmly up against the paint. He kissed him, and his hands crept down Michael’s thighs, stroking the silken material of the stockings. Michael held onto Victor’s shoulders and kissed him back, but he was not going to wait forever. When Victor finally broke the kiss, Michael tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Yes, you pulled...?” Victor inquired wryly.

“I wonder if, perhaps, we might try things differently today,” Michael said carefully. Victor waited for him to go on, and Michael cleared his throat. “I thought that maybe I could… if you would let me, I could… be the one who, well… who does… yes. Do you know what I mean?”

“Oh, so you tried it once and now you got a taste for penetrating, is that it?” Victor drawled and Michael laughed uncomfortably, hugging his arms around himself. “Well, I’m sorry,” Victor said bluntly, smirking. “You fuck my sister, you take it in the ass. You make me dinner, and I consider letting you do me.”

“I suppose that is fair,” Michael sighed. Then he let out a short scream as he was lifted off the ground.

“Legs around!” Victor said as he hoisted Michael up. Michael quickly snapped his legs around Victor’s waist, clinging to him tightly with his thighs.

“Please don’t drop me!” he cried out.

“I won’t. You act like I’ve never picked anyone up before,” Victor laughed. “And the wall will balance you. So just relax.” He went to kiss Michael and then stopped, sighing. “Hold on. I forgot something.” He let Michael down gently and went to the bedside drawer. “ _You_ may not think they’re important, obviously, but –”

“Will you let that go!” Michael snapped, feeling embarrassed, as Victor tore open a condom. “It was just an amateur mistake.”

“Yeah well, amateur mistakes can still get you syphilis, so next time you cheat on me, wrap it up.” Victor edged out of his underwear and Michael frowned unhappily to himself.

“I won’t ever cheat on you again…” he muttered.

“Good,” Victor said. “And I… well, I won’t either.” Michael looked off at the wall opposite, flush with a passing moment of melancholy.

He was lucky, he thought. What he had done, and what Victor had done too, could quite easily have destroyed their growing relationship. If that had happened, if it had properly happened and they had broken up for good, then no doubt Michael would be back home now, sitting on his own bed and thinking about what he had done. He did not even want to imagine the smug dressing down that would await him if he had to confess to his father that his new relationship had already failed, and he needed to come home.

“Give me just a second, Mickey,” Victor said in a singsong way, though Michael was barely listening, lost in thought. “I have some lube in here somewhere, and I intend to treat you right today!”

Michael recalled that he had told Victor he loved him yesterday, something that felt strange still, but pleasant. He had never told anyone he loved them before, anyone at all for any reason, knowing that no-one loved him back. He had a tendency to become attached to people who were nice to him, who gave him some hope that he might be loved, but as his feelings were never reciprocated, even platonically, it didn’t matter much. And despite Victor’s reply when he had said the I love you, he had a real hope that this time was different. He thought that Victor might be not just the first person he had admitted out loud that he loved, but also the first person to ever tell Michael that they loved him, too.

“Distracted?” Victor said, grinning as he appeared in front of Michael once more. Michael blinked himself back into the room, having gone entirely off inside his own head. He nodded. “Well, I think I can win back your attention. Get ready for lift off. Err, I mean, in the sense that I’m going to lift you again, I mean.”

Victor had peeled the PVC up his stomach, Michael noticed, just as he was hoisted into the air. He quickly wrapped his legs around Victor’s waist, clinging on tightly, still afraid he might be dropped, even with his back firmly up against the wall.

“I’m looking forward to this,” Michael breathed.

“Yeah, I’m all _maid_ up,” Victor laughed. Michael gave him a single courtesy laugh. “All right, no more playing,” Victor said softly. “Let’s have you.” He cemented his hands around Michael’s hips, bringing him down just a little and then guiding him onto his cock. Michael tensed his thighs as Victor entered him, and rested his chin against Victor’s shoulder with a sigh.

“That feels even better than the other times,” he said.

“Easily impressed,” Victor teased. He slipped his hands around and squeezed Michael’s arse, which got him a little hungry moan. Michael clung to Victor with arms and legs and as Victor started to fuck him in earnest, he began to pant lightly into Victor’s ear.

“Victor, please… Victor…” he moaned, as he was eased up and down against the wall, as he felt the welcome, full feeling inside of him. “Keep going.”

“As if I was going to stop!” Victor breathed sharply, voice muffled against Michael’s collarbone. He gave him another squeeze and carried on, somewhere between rough and gentle with his thrusts, building up speed over the minutes.

“I love you!” Michael found himself calling out, sinking his fingernails into Victor’s shoulders for support. “I love you, Victor!”

“I love the way you feel…” Victor mumbled, struggling with the words. Michael vaguely appreciated the compromise, but didn’t care much. He was too busy focusing on what was being done to him to care what Victor was actually saying. Or what he was saying himself.

“I love you, I do, I love you,” he shouted again. He heard Victor laugh, felt him kiss his collarbone.

“I know, I know,” Victor said.

“Keep going… I love you… I love you…” Michael panted. Victor took the invitation as an excuse to drag Michael’s hips down harder over his cock, pumping hard and sighing and groaning.

“God, that’s good,” Victor breathed. “Let me have some more.”

“Was that a… oh god, Victor, I do love you…” Michael moaned. “I mean it. I love you. I… I… you make me feel… I love you…”

“Michael… not to complain… just, not the type of pillow talk you expect…” Victor said. Michael squeezed his thighs in place, wrapping one ankle over the other.

“There are no pillows…” he said. “You wanted me against the wall.”

“Damn right I did,” Victor groaned, dropping more kisses along the sensitive strip of Michael’s collarbone among words, making him squirm. “I want you anywhere I can have you, I love this.”

“And I love you,” Michael agreed readily, panting, tensing around Victor’s cock. His own cock was twitching and he found he was getting close to the edge. He tried to think about something else, but he couldn’t. In the moment, he was single-minded, obsessed. “I love you so much!” he whimpered into Victor’s ear.

“Yeah, I heard you.” Victor tried to laugh, but he, too, was too absorbed to much do anything besides thrust and twitch.

“Do I make you feel good?” Michael asked breathlessly. “Do you feel good now, do you like… do you like the way I feel for you?”

“Yes, christ, yes!” Victor moaned sharply, giving an especially rough thrust. “You make me hard just thinking about you, Michael, if you weren’t always in my fucking bedroom I’d be tempted to pump one out for your sake every hour!”

“Victor… I love you, I love you.”

“Christ, Michael, you feel great, you really do know how to take it, you know…”

“I would do anything for you! I love you!”

They carried on a little longer, until Michael knew he was about to finish. He held on for about thirty seconds, at great effort, wanting to have a few more moments to enjoy the hard shape of Victor’s cock being pumped into his ass. As he felt the orgasm coming, he let go completely of any attempt to withhold his feelings.

“I love you! I love you! I love you, Victor, I love you. I love how you feel. I love what you’re doing. I love you. I want you, and I love you. Victor… I love you, I… ah, Victor. I love you. I love this, I love you, I love you, _I love you_!” And he came, frantically and messily, in the space where their bodies were crushed together.

“God, Michael, nearly there… nearly there, I…” Victor panted, finding it impossible to form words properly, no doubt barely remembering what words were.

“I love you…” Michael whined, as the rush of coming slowly began to pass.

“I love you,” Victor repeated automatically. Michael’s eyes snapped wide, wide open, but Victor didn’t react further. It was only another second before he groaned sharply and came as well. Though Michael found that the hot, shaking sensation inside of him was no longer enough to distract him from what had been said.

“Victor, you said it,” Michael breathed. Victor had his forehead planted hard against Michael’s shoulder and was moaning in a low voice, not paying attention. After a moment, he pulled out and helped Michael back to his feet.

“What did you say?” Victor asked, catching his breath.

“Victor!” Michael cried out. “You said ‘I love you’!” His legs were shaking already, and now he found himself clasping his hands together and smiling widely, showing off all his teeth, beaming. Victor stared blankly at him.

“No, I… I wouldn’t say that,” he mumbled. “I’m sure it was something else.”

“You said it, I heard you!” Michael declared happily, clapping his hands. Victor winced.

“I did, didn’t I…” he muttered. “But I didn’t mean it, I was just in the moment! It’s your bloody fault, you kept saying it, and it just got in my head. You basically said it to yourself.”

“But I didn’t!” Michael insisted, eyes narrow and grin wide. “You said it. The words came out of your mouth. You said that you love me!” Victor let out a long and heavy sigh and shook his head.

“You’re gonna treat it like the real deal, aren’t you?” he muttered irritably. Michael nodded, lifting his eyebrows and turning his grin into a smirk. Victor sighed again. “Well, I can’t stop you. But I _didn’t_ mean it. Just so you know.”

“Then tell me that you don’t love me,” Michael suggested, folding his arms. Victor winced again, unhappily, rubbing the side of his head with his fist.

“No, that… that feels mean,” he argued weakly. “Like, to be that specific with it? No way. I can’t just look you in the eye and say that sort of thing.” Michael clapped his hands together with a delighted sense of victory.

“Because you do, really,” he insisted. “You love me! But it is hard for you to admit it, so you refuse, but you let it slip! You love me, Victor!”

“No!” Victor whined. “I don’t, but… god, damn it, Michael. I don’t want to hurt you. I do like you! I like you a lot! You gotta stop… pushing me!” Michael bit his lip. He was still pleased with himself, and he knew it was just a matter of time before he heard Victor say it properly. He had still been able to hear the words out loud, after all. Soon. Everything was well on track.

“I apologise,” he said softly. “I’m still not used to this kind of relationship.”

“Neither am I,” Victor scoffed. “But hey, it could be going worse, right?” He stopped to smile back at Michael, dropping a kiss on the tip of his nose. “And that went _really_ well, if you ask me.”

“Yes, I enjoyed myself,” Michael mumbled shyly. “A lot, actually. I’m sorry for getting… carried away. I’ve never been able to be open with my feelings before, so I’m… struggling to regulate them to the proper level.” Victor laughed and took Michael into a hug, kissing him on the mouth once, twice, and again.

“Don’t let me ruin it for you,” he said.

“I don’t intend to let anything ruin things for us again,” Michael said, speaking firmly. He didn’t. He had had more than his fill of drama already. From now on, it would be smooth and happy, he was determined about that. Nothing but slow steps forward. Even if he occasionally had to drag Victor behind him, kicking and screaming. “There is one thing, though.”

“What’s that?” Victor asked. “If you’re gonna say ‘shower’, then I think I agree. We can jump in together. Naughty.”

“Actually…” Michael said slyly. “I was hoping you’d let me make you dinner tomorrow night.” He smiled neatly, and watched Victor cough and laugh for a moment, remembering what he had said, before going in for a kiss.


End file.
